


Fluffy Drabbles

by mnwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Bunker, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 8,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: Very short ficlets, mostly just domestic fluff involving Dean, Cas and Sam in the bunker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to get rid of my SPN blog, so I'm transferring a lot of my old writing over here. You can follow me on [mnwood](http://mnwood.tumblr.com/) for updates.

Sometimes Cas leaves for a few days or even a week at a time, and Sam thinks maybe it’s because he still doesn’t exactly feel welcome or think of the bunker as  _home._

Sam hates when Cas is gone, not only because he’s his best friend and he misses him, but because of the damn phone calls.

Dean’s always locking himself away in his room like a horny teenager hiding from his mom, and he always comes out looking…debauched. Sam really does not need to know the details. He can infer.

Except one day after Cas has been gone for a particularly long time, Sam passes by Dean’s room and instead of the expected moans, he hears…laughter. Like, knee-slapping, tears-on-your-face laughter.

He hasn’t heard Dean laugh like that in a long time, so he pauses and cranes his ear toward the door.

“He was flirting with you, dude. And you probably just broke his heart.”

What the hell are they–

“Well, next time you’ll know what to do. You’re a hot piece of ass, buddy. It won’t be the last time somebody flirts with you.”

Sam really wishes he could hear Cas’ half of this conversation.

“So, you doing OK otherwise? You’ll be home soon?”

Another pause.

“Yeah. Alright. I’ll wait up for you. Love you, too, Cas. Oh, and hey! I’m making burgers tomorrow night. We can go to the store together if you want. Yeah. I know. Text me when you’re on your way. Yeah, love you. Can’t wait to see you, too. Uh-huh. Love you, too. Yep.”

When he realizes the call is ending, Sam panics and tries to decide which way to go and ends up dancing back and forth in front of Dean’s door before sprinting toward the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean asks as he opens the door and stops Sam mid-run.

Sam turns and finds that his brother…still looks completely debauched. Exactly like he does every time he finishes a phone call with Cas.

“Nothing!” Sam replies awkwardly. “Nothing at all. Just, uh, you know. Reevaluating my perception of yours and Cas’ relationship.”

Dean’s eyes widen and his face drains of color. 

Sam takes off at a sprint again, Dean close at his heels yelling, “What did you hear! Get the fuck back here, Sammy! We were just having phone sex,  _I swear!”_


	2. Chapter 2

Three times Dean tries to tell Sam.

“So, uh, what do you think of me and Cas?” he asks as he stands at the counter and stares into his cup of coffee.

“I think you guys are great. So there’s a case like half an hour from here, want to go check it out?”

Dean turns and finds Sam typing away on his laptop as if he didn’t even hear what Dean asked. “Yeah. What’s the case?”

*****

They’re eating dinner in the bunker, Sam and Charlie on one side of the table and Dean and Cas on the other. Dean has a six pack in his system and has switched to whiskey when he absentmindedly leans back and tosses his arm around the back of Cas’ chair.

Cas looks at him fondly, so Dean rubs his shoulder and pulls him closer. The smile Charlie gives them reminds Dean that this is not how he normally behaves.

So he waits until Sam is paying attention, and then he leans over and sloppily kisses Cas’ temple. 

“Dean, can I have another burger?” is all Sam says.

*****

Cary Brothers’ “Blue Eyes” is playing on the radio and Sam and Dean haven’t talked in the past 20 miles.

“Cas and I are together.”

“Do you think we made the right decision back there? Letting that kid live?”

“Sam. Cas and I are–”

“Why are you acting like I don’t know this information?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Cas and I – we’re, you know, like…together I guess.”

“Yeah. Again,  _why are you acting like I don’t know this information?”_

“Because–because–you haven’t–because–I just–”

Dean gives up, and they sit in silence again.

“You don’t have to come out to me, either. I knew that years before you figured it out.”

“How the fuck are you even–”

“And I know you’re the one who keeps leaving empty ice cream cartons in the freezer after you finish them. And I know you send Claire money every month. And I know you secretly wake up really early to watch the–”

“OK, OK. Fine! I get it. Never telling you anything ever again,” Dean mumbles.

Silence.

“I’m happy for you, Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Say it again.”

“Cas–”

“Please.”

Dean sighs and runs a hand down his face to hide his smile. “Boyfriend.”

“Again.”

_“Cas.”_

Cas bites Dean’s shoulder and rolls his hips.

“Boy– _boyfriend_ ,” Dean stutters.

Cas kisses his way down his chest and back up to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “One more time.”

“Boyfriend. You’re my boyfriend, alright? Asshole.”

He finally kisses him on the mouth, solid and sure. He pulls away before Dean can really get into it, and he looks up at the ceiling with a mischievous smile.

“What?” Dean asks, not hiding his own smile anymore.

“Nothing.” He lowers his weight fully onto Dean and kisses his forehead. “Just thinking ‘husband’ might sound even better.”


	4. Chapter 4

They’re checking out at the grocery store, and Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and rests his head on his hand while Dean swipes his credit card.

“You two are a lovely couple,” the cashier says, and Dean smiles awkwardly down at the keypad.

They’re walking into a gas station, and Dean reaches his hand back for Cas to take. Cas hooks his index finger around Dean’s pinky, and a woman walking out of the store smiles down at their hands as she holds the door open for them.

Dean feels his face flush.

They’re at the movies and Dean wraps a hand around Cas’ waist and rubs his hip while the guy prints their tickets.

“We have a rewards card if you’d like one. As a married couple, you’d only have to sign up for one,” the guy says casually, and Dean chokes on air.

They’re at a restaurant and their feet are hooked under the booth. Dean unconsciously reaches over and wipes mustard from the side of Cas’ mouth. 

“Would you two lovebirds like to share a dessert tonight?” their server asks, and Dean hides his face in his hands.

Cas watches her as she walks away, and then he turns back to Dean and leans forward. “We’ve been married for a year, Dean,” he whispers with a soft smile. “You’re going to have to get used to this eventually.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sam knows a code word when he hears one. Hell, he and Dean have about a hundred or so words and phrases and hand gestures that they’ve accumulated over the years to make a language all of their own. It’s not hard to figure out when something means something else entirely.

Which is how Sam finds out about Dean and Cas’ “secret” relationship. 

The first time Dean asked Cas if he wanted to “play Scrabble,” Sam didn’t really think much of it. Dean and Cas disappeared to do random shit all the time. They were, after all, best friends and pretty much attached at the hip.

But then Dean asked again a couple days later. Then Cas asked. Then Sam realized.

They would disappear into Dean’s room to “play Scrabble,” and then they would come out two hours later looking angry or exhausted or smug or any other emotion to describe that they had just fucked.

Sam elected to ignore it. He didn’t really care if Dean and Cas were secretly fucking as long as they were happy. If things got serious, they would tell him.

That is, until one day Sam walks into Dean’s room without waiting for a “come in” and finds Dean and Cas–

“What the fuck are you guys doing?”

They both look up at him with wide eyes. Dean holds a little wooden letter in his hand and responds, “What does it  _look_  like we’re doing?”

“It looks like you’re playing Scrabble.”

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear us say we were going to play Scrabble like an hour ago?” Dean puts his letter down, and Sam sees the word “bullet” written on the board.

“So…that wasn’t…a code word?”

Cas answers this time, “Why would Dean and I need a code word at home when it's only the three of us here?”

“Because you’re – you’re – never mind.” Sam slams the door behind him before they can say anything else.

Muffled through the door, he hears Dean say, “Oh my god, dude, I think Sammy thought you and I were having sex.”


	6. Chapter 6

It’s 5 o’clock in the morning when Sam hears a knock on his door.

“Yeah, come in.”

Cas slides in and carefully shuts the door behind him. He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and one of Dean’s t-shirts. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, Sam. I had to do this before your brother wakes up.”

Sam sits up and tries to look attentive. “Yeah, dude, it’s fine. What’s up?”

“I know that American tradition requires that the man ask the father for his daughter’s hand in marriage, but considering our circumstances, I thought this might be the next best thing.”

“Cas, what the hell are you–”

“I would like to ask your brother to marry me.”

“Oh.  _Oh.”_

“And it would…mean a lot to me to have your permission. Before I ask. I want to ask tonight.” Cas folds his arms over himself as if he’s actually nervous that Sam’s going to say no.

Instead of responding right away, Sam crawls out of bed and walks over to Cas to wrap him in a hug. “Of course you can ask Dean to marry you. That’s – really, that’s great news, man.”

They pull away from each other, and Sam feels himself tearing up at how ecstatic Cas looks.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Cas,  _really._  I mean, you’re family already. This is even better.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Cas’ demeanor changes before he says, “I have to go. I have a lot to plan.”

An hour later, Sam and Dean are sipping coffee in the kitchen while Cas is “out running errands.”

Out of absolutely nowhere and with no preamble, Dean states, “I think I want to ask Cas to marry me.”

Sam chokes on his coffee.


	7. Chapter 7

They started sleeping together before they did anything else.

Sleep in the literal sense.

One night Dean rolled over and Cas was just  _there_ , mouth open and snoring softly, one hand unconsciously reaching in the open space between them.

They didn’t talk about it.

At first it was a middle-of-the-night thing, where one of them would sneak across the hall into the other’s room and crawl into bed without waking the other up. Then they’d wake up in the morning, get up immediately, and go about their day like nothing had happened.

Then it was a conscious decision. They would retire at the same time at night and Cas would reach his hand back and Dean would take it and they would fall into bed together and fall asleep immediately.

Then the cuddling started. Dean woke up one morning with an arm wrapped around his middle, and he pulled on it to make Cas come closer, and they each took a deep breath and melted into each other. They both pretended to be asleep for an hour that morning just so they could keep touching.

The tension got so thick that neither of them could sleep at night, tangling and turning and trying their damnedest to get as close to each other as humanly possible without actually _doing_  anything. Because if they did anything, then they’d have to talk about it.

Three months. It went on for three months until one night it got really bad and there were hands sneaking up under shirts and frantically gripping skin and there were butterfly kisses on collarbones that turned into hickeys on necks and finally,  _finally_  Dean breathed,  _“Kiss me,”_ and Cas found his lips in the dark and then found them again and again until they fell asleep on top of each other.

Sam said, “Congratulations, guys,” the next morning and when Dean and Cas asked what the hell he was talking about, he explained, “You look well-rested for the first time in months.”


	8. Chapter 8

It takes Cas a while to notice it.

He’s human now, and he’s still taking time to adjust. Sam and Dean insisted that he stay at the bunker and take care of himself for a while, but that would make him feel less like himself than he already does without his grace.

So he goes on hunts with them.

The first time they stopped at a motel, Cas was surprised when Sam walked off to a single room and Dean threw a key at Cas and said, “You’re with me, buddy.”

The shapeshifter was first. Then the slew of ghosts, a couple of demons, what turned out to be a friendly witch, pack of werewolves. Eventually, it just became commonplace that Dean and Cas share a room.

But it still took Cas a while to notice it.

The way Dean has to enter the room first, check everything in it, line it with salt, and toss his duffel bag on the bed closest to the door.

Always,  _always_  the bed closest to the door.

“Why do you do that?” Cas asks without preamble.

“Hmm?” Dean hums back, turning to face Cas while he switches the lamp on.

“You always take the bed nearest the door. Why?”

Dean blushes and shrugs. “I don’t know, dude. Just…’cause.”

Cas can tell he’s lying, but he doesn’t push the issue.

Instead, he waits until later when he and Sam are sitting outside looking up at the stars while Dean sleeps. He asks Sam the same question, why Dean always takes the bed by the door.

Sam laughs knowingly and answers, “If somebody were to break in, they’d have to go through him before they get to you.”

“But – Dean knows I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, doesn’t he?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Dean…he’s got to protect the people he loves. He’s like a-a–”

“Guardian angel.”

Sam looks at Cas, and there’s pity etched into his features under the dim outdoor light of the motel. “Yeah. Like a guardian angel.”


	9. Chapter 9

They never even bothered to tell him. 

One day they were checking into a motel and Sam was just about to ask what they were going to do about the fact that there were only two beds when Dean plopped down and yanked on Cas’ coat until he was practically in his lap. 

“There enough pillows here for you, Cas?” Dean asked right against Cas’ ear.

“It should be sufficient, yes.”

Sam didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t say anything when they stripped down to their boxers and curled up in bed later that night. He didn’t say anything about Dean being the little spoon.

He didn’t even say anything when the sound of soft laughter woke him up at 4 a.m., and he had to push a pillow over his head to drown out the subsequent sound of lips smacking.

He didn’t say anything when Dean and Cas shuffled into the bathroom together the next morning, but he  _did_  let out a “really?” under his breath when he heard the shower turn on.

It wasn’t until they were at a fucking Bob Evans for breakfast and Dean ordered for Cas – his arm slung over the back of the booth and Cas tucked into his side - he  _ordered_  for Cas like an old married couple who have been coming to Bob Evans every Sunday morning for the past 30 years. 

Sam couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “OK, seriously,  _what_  the fuck?” which got the attention of half the restaurant.

Dean just shrugged.

After a minute of silence, Cas turned to Dean and said, “I told you he didn’t know.” 


	10. Chapter 10

Sam takes a deep breath and begins to type.

**Recipient: Charlie Bradbury**

_So I owe you 10 bucks._

_Dang. I wanted my 50. Do I owe you anything?_

_Nah, I was way off. The only way you’d owe me anything is if they told me themselves, which they didn’t._

_You walk in on a BJ or something?_

_…Or something._

**Recipient: Scottish Douchebag**

_You owe me 20._

_Bloody hell, they couldn’t wait until December?_

_I told you it would happen soon._

**Recipient: Jody Mills**

_We split, so we don’t owe each other anything._

_Wait, in which direction?_

_Cas initiated, so that was my $40. It took two weeks before I noticed, so that’s your $40._

_Damn. Tell them I said congratulations._

**Recipient: Claire Novak**

_Remind me to give you $200 next time I see you._

_Lol sucks to suck, dude._

_You’ve been around for FIVE MINUTES, how did you know?_

_I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em….also, I told Cas to go for it._

_Cheater._

**Recipient: Dean Winchester**

_I’m going to the store. You need anything? Beer? Candles? Lube?_

_Yeah, all that would be great. Make sure you get Astroglide. It feels the nicest on Cas’ fingers._

_Can we not._

_It’s a natural act, Sammy._

_Can. We. Not._

_So, how much money did you lose?_

_I have no idea what you’re talking about._

_Sure you don’t._


	11. Chapter 11

When Cas starts hunting with Sam and Dean, he realizes that he’s never actually paid attention to  _how_  they hunt.

Until he lost his grace, he was always just popping in to smite demons or time travel or get in an argument with Dean, so he never really stopped and watched what the Winchesters  _do_.

One thing Cas definitely didn’t expect was to be disappointed. Sam and Dean’s reputation among supernatural beings is not to be taken lightly, but so far Cas has been unimpressed.

On the first hunt, Dean nearly broke his arm pushing Cas away from a fight. They ended up fleeing the scene early to take care of the injury.

During the second, Dean missed a target completely and got shot in the hip as he pushed Cas to the ground to duck. While he dealt with the wound, Sam yelled at him about how unfocused he was and how reckless he was being.

Dean was captured during the third hunt. Tied up and tortured during the fourth. Broke a rib during the fifth.

So yeah, Cas isn’t exactly impressed. 

During the sixth hunt, Dean very nearly gets killed jumping in front of Cas to stop an attack.

As soon as they get back to the motel, Sam says very calmly, “Cas, buddy, you can’t come on hunts with us anymore.”

“Sam,” Dean chastises.

“No, Dean. I’m not doing this anymore. You’ve been useless the past couple months.”

“That’s not because – look, I’m doing my best, alright?”

“Am I…missing something?” Cas asks.

They both turn to him. There is a long stretch of silence, and then Dean turns on his heel and stomps out the door.

Sam sighs and explains, “He’s too busy worried about you during hunts.”

“What?”

“He’s distracted. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam moves over to sit closer to Cas. “He’s lost you too many times to be logical.”

“But why? Why does he…care so much?”

Sam pats Cas’ shoulder and says, “I think you already know the answer to that, Cas.”


	12. Chapter 12

Surprisingly, Sam’s the first one up. Usually Dean has already downed two cups of coffee by the time Sam gets to the kitchen, but today there’s nobody in sight. 

He’s trying to figure out how to work the coffee maker (again, Dean is usually the one to do this) when Cas says from behind him, “Morning, Sam.”

Sam turns and returns the greeting, still thrown off guard by Cas’ pajama pants and old t-shirt despite the fact that he’s been human and staying in the guest bedroom for a couple of weeks now. Cas sits at the kitchen table and tiredly runs a hand through his messy hair. Sam wonders if Cas thinks it’s weird that Dean’s not up yet, but he doesn’t ask.

They sit in silence as they drink their (mediocre) coffee, which is probably why Sam nearly has a heart attack when Dean slides into the kitchen with a “WOOOO,” fuzzy socks on his feet and a robe tied closed around his waist. He starts playing an air guitar and making the sounds himself since there’s no music actually playing.

Sam looks to Cas for reassurance that this doesn’t make any sense, but Cas is staring down at his phone and drinking coffee like this is normal.

“Morning, Sammy!” Dean yells before leaning over and kissing Sam on the top of his head.

“What are you–”

“Morning, Cas!” Dean interrupts as he places a kiss on Cas’ head, too.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas states without looking up from his phone.

Dean then heads over to the coffee maker – or, rather, he  _dances_  over to the coffee maker – while humming some unidentifiable tune. “Jesus, Sammy, you  _suck_  at making coffee,” he announces emphatically before picking up the whole coffee maker and theatrically dumping all of its contents into the sink. 

He continues humming and dancing as he makes his own pot of coffee, and then when he joins them at the table he’s got a huge, goofy smile on his face like it’s the best day of his life. His smile changes to an overdramatic wince, however, when he takes a seat. He stands back up and sits back down slower before deliberately adjusting his butt in the chair. Sam glances over at Cas and sees that he’s now  _smirking_  down at his phone.

“How was your night, Sammy?” Dean asks way too loudly.

“Um, it was good.”

After a beat, Dean continues, “Aren’t you going to ask me how  _my_  night was?”

Cas sighs and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “Dean, we agreed not to tell him until–”

_“CAS AND I HAD SEX LAST NIGHT.”_


	13. Chapter 13

Sam wishes for the sweet embrace of death the first time he walks past the bunker’s bathroom and hears Cas’ voice  _moan_  through the wall with a satisfied  _“Dean”_  tagged onto the end.

But death doesn’t come, so Sam runs away and locks himself in his room and puts his headphones on and hopes he never hears Cas and Dean having sex again.

Of course, Sam never gets what he wants so two days later he boxes his ears after hearing another desperate and breathy  _“Dean”_  coming from Cas’ room.

A few hours later that day he passes by Dean’s room and hears an equally passionate  _“Cas”_  and begins to wonder how often these two fuckers fuck.

It happens a dozen times in a week before Sam has had enough and decides to bring it up at breakfast.

“Guys, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Cas and Dean look up at him innocently.

“Look, I know you guys are fucking–”

“What?”

“–And I’m super happy for you, alright? Thrilled. But seriously, can you  _keep it down?”_

Cas and Dean look at each other with confused expressions before Dean turns back to Sam and asks again,  _“What?”_

“Please don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m not stupid. You don’t have to keep your relationship a secret.”

Cas clears his throat and says, “Sam, I believe you’ve–”

“What do you mean relationship? Cas and I don’t –  _oh.”_

Cas and Dean both stare at the table blankly, and Sam swears he sees blush rising on their cheeks.

“Come on, guys, just fess up. Seriously, it’s  _fine._ What’s not fine is that I have to hear you guys shouting each other’s names all the fucking time, and – oh.”

Sam’s eyes dart between the two of them as realization dawns on him. “Oh.  _Oh.”_

Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s never actually heard them… _together_. He’s just heard them, individually, say each other’s names. While making sexual noises. Individually.

“Well, um,” Sam starts. “It looks like you two have a lot to talk about. Um. Yeah. It was an easy mistake. Please…don’t kill me.”

Two hours later, Sam passes by Cas’ room and hears a  _“Dean,”_  and this time it’s immediately followed by an enthusiastic  _“Cas.”_

He regrets asking them not to kill him.


	14. Chapter 14

As an ethereal being it’s impossible to own material objects, which is the justification Castiel gives for why he is so attached to  _things_  in his corporeal form.

He was devastated when he had to give up his coat, and the new one has never really had the same appeal.

The fake badge Dean gave him. His tie. His name tag at the Gas-n-Sip. His angel blade. He cherishes them all as if they are precious.

But if there’s anything Cas values over all other things, it’s his Lincoln Continental. 

He never really understood Dean’s obsession with the Impala until he had a car of his own. A giant machine that he could look at with reverence and think  _mine mine mine._

He takes care of it as if it is a living being. He washes the windshield weekly, rotates the tires way more often than is necessary, changes the oil before it even gets close to  _really_ needing it. When he gets in it, he drinks in the scent and caresses the wheel. Aside from the radio he had installed, he’s done all the repairs and maintenance himself. 

It is  _his_ , and he adores it. 

He is worse,  _way_ worse, than Dean when it comes to rules. He doesn’t allow food or drink or trash of any kind in its beautiful interior, and there are  _absolutely_  no animals allowed. Nothing that could defile his baby.

Nothing impure.

Nothing unclean.

So when he and Dean tangle together in the backseat for the first time and Cas reaches for the other man’s belt buckle, Dean stops him and asks, “You sure you alright with this? It’s going to be messy.”

To which Cas just nods and continues removing Dean’s clothes.

But in his head he thinks,  _this is sacred ground, and you are holy._


	15. Chapter 15

Realizing that Dean and Cas are never going to work out their shit if they never get any alone time, Sam starts to conveniently and periodically disappear whenever Cas is around. 

There seems to be no change in Dean and Cas’ behavior after several weeks of this, and Sam grows increasingly more impatient until he finally decides to just confront them about it. He even admits to giving them “private time” and hoping for the best.

Strangely enough, Dean and Cas readily agree that maybe there’s something going on between them, and perhaps they should discuss it.

Sam thinks their cavalier attitudes imply that they really  _aren’t_  going to talk about it, and he’s just going to have to keep living in hell. 

Later that night as Dean and Cas curl up in bed together, Dean says, “I was wondering why it was so easy to sneak around lately.”

Cas responds, “Should we tell him we’ve been together for a year?”


	16. Chapter 16

“Would you pass the salt, honey?”

“What?”

“What?”

Dean looks up from his food and glances between his brother and Cas. “What?”

“You called Cas ‘honey,’” Sam says.

“Yeah, and?” Dean shrugs at Cas, who is staring back at him like he’s trying to figure out who he is and what he did with Dean.

“You’ve never called me honey before.”

"What’s the big deal? We’ve been dating almost two years and it’s weird if I call you pet names?”

“Yes,” Cas and Sam say in unison.

Dean tightens his grip on his fork and looks back down at his food. “Would you please pass the salt,  _Castiel?”_

The salt slides over to him.


	17. Chapter 17

Mary doesn’t remember meeting her son until six hours after his birth. 

The delivery was a difficult one, and she wasn’t exactly lucid enough to hold Dean before they took him away. When she woke up, John was sitting in a chair across the room rocking their newborn son in his arms and staring down at him with tears in his eyes. He told her she had been out for six hours.

“How long have you been holding him?”

“About six hours.”

When Dean was old enough to sit in a high chair at meals, Mary got in the habit of patting his head (which eventually turned into ruffling his hair – once he grew hair) after setting food in front of him. 

At the age of 3, Dean spent two months refusing to walk. He would reach up for Mary, and she would hold him on her hip while she went about her day. Sometimes he would say things or ask to be set down to play, but for some reason he decided that his primary mode of transportation was in his mother’s arms. He was very disappointed when she became too pregnant to carry both him and his brother all the time.

After Mary’s death, Dean didn’t like to be touched. He recoiled whenever John would try to hug him or tuck him into bed at night. When John asked if there was anything he could do to help, Dean didn’t speak. For an entire year, he didn’t speak.

He held Sam, though. More often than John did. When Sam began walking, Dean gripped his hand tightly and made sure he never fell. (Even when Sam became steady enough on his feet to walk by himself, they still held hands.)

Dean is 14 when he goes on his first date. She reaches for his hand. He tenses and thinks it’s normal to be nervous.

He’s 25 when he falls in love with Cassie Robinson. He’s 26 when he realizes “falls in love” isn’t really the right phrase. She touched his face a lot, and he never shied away from it. He supposes that’s why he thought he was in love.

Touch becomes a sacred thing somewhere between almost dying and losing his father. Touches are reserved for grabbing Sam’s face after he’s been hurt, wrapping Sam in a hug when he can’t stand on his own, hitting Sam on the shoulder to get his attention. Other people touch Dean, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. (He doesn’t put it together that every touch feels like a reaper gently guiding him into death.)

There is no touch in hell. 

Bobby touches his face when he returns, just to check if he’s real, and Dean closes his eyes and leans into it without realizing what he’s doing. Bobby doesn’t say anything, but he thinks he understands. 

He holds Sam for too long, enough for the chick in Sam’s hotel room to clear her throat and ask if they’re a couple. When Sam pulls away and says no, Dean aches at the loss of contact. He aches, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know what he wants.

When the angel Castiel steps into the barn with a blank expression on his borrowed face, Dean no longer aches. He knows, somewhere in his chest, that this being was the first to touch him since the hellhounds dragged him down 40 years ago. It feels like life, not death. He never figures out which one he prefers, which one feels more peaceful, more at home. All he knows is that he aches again.

Lisa Braeden gives touches freely, without preamble, with a casualness reserved for mothers and children. Dean grows accustomed to her touches, and he unapologetically reaches for them. Lisa knows that they mean more to Dean than they do to her, that what she does on autopilot sends Dean into overdrive. She reminds herself that Dean loves differently, wholly, with the sort of blind affection that doesn’t differentiate between lover and friend, brother and child. They are all the same to Dean, and she knows that he has no idea.

Cas’ touches change. They change from life to healing to, eventually, home. Dean doesn’t recognize the progression until he’s bleeding on the floor of a crypt and hardly notices when he doesn’t hurt anymore because that’s Cas’ hand against his cheek and it’s Cas’ hand it’s  _Cas’_  hand it’s not the robot Dean’s feared for the past several months. The touch of Cas’ fingers feels better than the power of his healing, and Dean knows that he is home.

He is home where his mom would ruffle his hair and hold him on her hip and wipe the dirt from his cheek before patting his face and kissing his forehead. He is home where his father would come in from work and scoop him in his arms and ask about his day and scratch his belly and challenge him to a wrestling match. He is home where Sam’s hand is clenched in his because they have nothing left in the world but each other and nothing makes sense except their hands clasped together. 

He is home when he is touched, and he may not know a whole lot about love but he knows  _home._


	18. Chapter 18

Nobody in their right mind would lie to their brother about some special farmer’s market two hours away just so they can sneak away and meet some shady guy with a mohawk on the side of I-40 who just happens to be selling miniature Yorkshire terrier puppies out of a fucking minivan. 

Then again, Sam hasn’t really felt like he’s in his “right mind” since he started seeing visions of the future nearly a decade ago. So yeah. Maybe he sneaked out of their new fancy lair and is now on his way back with a sleeping 1-pound puppy in a crate in the passenger seat.  _Maybe._

“All right, T-Rex, no barking when we get inside, OK? We have to stay quiet so my scary big brother doesn’t make me take you back.” As if T-Rex was actually capable of barking. Sam imagines she probably has more of a small yelp for a voice. In any case, she’s still sound asleep.

Sam and T-Rex manage to get all the way to their room without seeing any sign of the no-dogs-allowed tyrant. He sets her crate down and makes sure the home he made for her in the bottom drawer of his dresser is ready for her before he lets her out. Of course, she’s still asleep, so he scoops her up in his palm and sets her down gently on the assortment of tiny baby blankets in the drawer. She yawns and adjusts herself to get comfortable before falling right back asleep. 

Sam sits cross-legged on the floor and stares at her for half an hour. She’s absolutely goddamn perfect. 

It’s difficult at first, keeping her a secret from Dean. Also, taking care of her when they go on hunts and stuff. It’s nice when Kevin moves in and jumps right on board with taking care of her while not saying a word about it to Dean.

It’s also lucky that full grown, she weighs 4 pounds. One time Sam walked right past Dean with her cupped to his stomach. All he had to do was pretend like he had a stomach ache. Other times he just holds her behind his back and sneaks out the side door to take her for a walk. It’s really very convenient to be a giant man with a tiny dog. (The looks they get on walks is, frankly, priceless.)

Except when she crawls under things. The only place she can roam freely in is Sam’s room (she’s really too small to be let loose in the whole bunker), and six days of the week Sam finds himself on his hands and knees crawling around like an idiot, banging his head on his nightstand and knocking things over in an attempt to find the little terror. Dean found him with half his body under his bed once, and Sam had to lie and say he keeps a box of important research under there. Somehow Dean believed him.

Sam also thinks T-Rex hides on purpose just so that he will get down low enough for her to be able to reach his face. Whenever he finds her, she jumps up and licks him as thoroughly as possible before sitting up on her hind legs waiting to be picked up.

At night is the best though. Sometimes he’ll stay up late doing research on his laptop and she’ll plop herself right down on his keyboard until he moves her to his thigh and gives her belly rubs. He’s learned how to type with one hand. 

He’s learned how to do a lot of things with one hand actually. He’s pretty sure he could get away with living his entire life while holding a dog in his left hand. 

In the winter, Sam has to buy tiny sweaters for her, which becomes a problem when Dean does the laundry and shows up in the kitchen holding one of them.

“The hell is this?” Dean asks skeptically.

“I have no idea. Looks like a dog sweater.”

“Looks more like a rat sweater to me. Where the hell did it come from?”

“Maybe we have a…ghost dog.”

“A ghost dog?”

“Yeah. A ghost dog.”

Dean just rolls his eyes and tosses the sweater in the garbage. Sam digs it out later. 

After a year and a half, Dean finds out.

It was dumb, really. Sam had just forgotten to give T-Rex a proper bath in about two weeks, so her smell was more obvious than usual. Dean notices it when he walks by Sam’s room, so he pushes the door open and out runs the teacup Yorkie.

“What the  _fuck_  was that?” Dean asks like he just saw a rodent.

“Dean! What the hell did you do?” Sam yells as he runs down the hall to catch his dog.

“Sammy! Get back here and explain to me _right now_ –”

“It’s a dog, Dean! I have a dog! Help me catch her!”

And so began the chase around the bunker to catch the 4-pound dog. When they finally get her, they’re both completely out of breath and collapse into chairs in the war room. Dean has her in the palm of his hand, and he holds her up to the light like he’s inspecting some ancient artifact. She yips at him.

“You have a dog.”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“You really want to know?”

“Get rid of her.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“We can’t have a dog in the bunker, Sammy! I don’t want a dog.”

“Well I don’t want you and Cas fucking here either, but we can’t always have what we want, can we?”

Dean just stares at him, open-mouthed, dog still in hand.

Sam stands and scoops T-Rex up. “Yeah. I’ve known for a while. You keep fucking Cas, I get to keep my dog. Deal? Deal. Glad we worked that out.”

When Sam walks out of the room, T-Rex yips up at him and throws her front paws in the air. Sam reaches the hand that’s not holding her down for a high five. 

“Good work in there, buddy,” he says seriously as her paw hits his palm.

*****

“We don’t have to tell him. I mean, I kept T-Rex a secret for two years before he found out.”

“Yes, but Penelope is not a miniature Yorkshire Terrier, Sam.”

Just as Sam is about to give his rebuttal, Dean walks into the kitchen and effectively ends their conversation.

“You two are up early,” Dean says with a yawn as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Cas, I didn’t even notice you getting out of bed this morning.”

“We aren’t doing anything!” Sam blurts, and what the hell? Why the fuck.

“Um, what?” Dean asks, and what a blessing that he’s clearly still half asleep.

“What Sam means is that we were just–we were having–we both woke up early and have been having a completely innocent conversation here in the kitchen.”

Dean looks back and forth between the two of them with a confused expression. “You two sleeping together behind my back or something?”

Sam can’t help himself and laughs while Cas vehemently denies the accusation with “no’s” and “of course not’s” and “how could you ever think I would do that to you, Dean’s.” By the time he’s done, Dean’s laughing, too.

“Well, whatever you nerds are up to, I don’t need to know about it.” Dean leaves the kitchen without another word.

Three hours later, Cas, Sam and T-Rex are at the local animal shelter picking up their new medium-sized mutt named Penelope. She’s got floppy ears and a long snout and she licks way too much. Sam was worried T-Rex would be scared of the much larger dog, but on the contrary she’s jumping and pawing at Penelope like they’re best friends already.

“Dean’s going to break up with me over this.”

“Yeah, probably. He nearly kicked me out when he found out about T-Rex.”

“Sam. What have we done. What are we doing. Turn the car around, Sam.”

“Dude,  _relax_. You’re acting like me.”

“Dean has chosen you over the world before. He hasn’t done that for me. What makes you think he would have me stick around after I bring this abomination into his house?”

Penelope uses both of her front paws to scratch at her ears.

“Cas. It’s not  _his_  house. It’s  _our_ house, and he can get the fuck over it.” Sam reaches into the backseat and pats Penelope on the head. “And he absolutely would choose you over the world.”

There’s no chance of trying to hide it when they get back to the bunker. Penelope and T-Rex sprint out of the car and right into Dean’s room as if they could smell the hatred on him and were drawn to it.

“What the  _fuck_  is this thing?” is all Sam and Cas hear from the hallway before the impending footsteps.

Dean is holding T-Rex in his hand and passes her off angrily to Sam when he gets to them. Penelope is pawing at his feet and licking his ankles. “What did I say? What did I say about pets?”

Sam and Cas shrug.

Dean storms back into his room, Penelope close at his heels.

Cas panics for a little while longer and tries to give Dean some space to calm down.

Sam keeps taking care of T-Rex like normal.

It isn’t until day three that Sam and Cas notice that Penelope spends more time with the grumpy anti-dog asshole than she does anywhere else.

Sam and Cas are sitting in the kitchen when Dean walks in rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Penelope  _pat pat patting_  right behind him.

“Didn’t hear you get up this morning, Cas.”

“Have you considered that you might be a heavier sleeper than you used to be?”

He gets his coffee and sits at the table with them. Penelope jumps up on his lap and stares at Sam and Cas. Dean acts like he doesn’t even notice. “That’s bullshit. I wake up every time Penelope even has an itch.”

“Wait, the dog sleeps in you guys’ bed?” Sam asks.

Dean and Cas shrug.

With a loving hand on Penelope’s head, Dean says very seriously, “Sam, no more dogs. I’m serious. No more fucking dogs in this house.”

“But–”

“No!” he yells as he scratches Penelope’s ears.

“Dean, you do realize–”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sammy!” He rubs her back. She rests her head on his arm.

“Dean, I think Sam might have a point–”

“Whose side are you on, Cas?” He pushes himself back from the table and tucks Penelope under his arm, his mug of coffee in his other hand. “And now look. This animal needs to go out, and I have to take her.”

“Nobody’s asking you to take care–”

“I mean, who else is going to do it? You don’t know where Penelope likes to go. I knew this would happen, that I would be the one taking care of her.”

“We’re not asking you to–”

“No, no, it’s fine! It’s fine. I got it.” He sets Penelope on the floor and then kneels down next to her. She licks his face as he says in a baby voice, “You hate those assholes as much as I do, don’t you, sweetheart? Don’t you? C’mon, let’s go out.”

Sam and Cas don’t say anything for a long time after Dean and Penelope leave.

They drink their coffee in silence.

Finally, Sam asks, “Did Dean just steal our dog?”


	19. Chapter 19

The first few times it happens, it makes sense. 

Dean is having a nightmare, Cas is there when he wakes up.

Dean goes back in time to stop his mom from making a deal, Cas pulls him back to the present right when it gets too intense.

Dean is contemplating the decisions he made to save a town on Halloween, Cas shows up to talk him through it.

But then it stops making sense.

Cas appears in the passenger seat when Dean’s on a supply run.

Cas lands directly in front of Dean as he’s packing his clothes in a motel he and Sam are just about to check out of.

Cas flies in while they’re eating at a crap diner and steals fries off of Dean’s plate. 

None of this makes any sense at all, and Dean never asks about it. Every time it happens, Cas has this confused look on his face as if he’s just as surprised as Dean is to find himself in the Winchesters’ presence. Dean decides to try and pinpoint when it happens, what exactly it is that makes Cas show up unannounced, but after several weeks he realizes he’s got nothing.

Finally, he asks.

“Cas, what are you doing here?”

Cas furrows his brow and looks around the motel room. “I…I’m not sure. Do you need anything?”

“Unless you want to help us on this case, not really, no. Did Sam pray you here or something?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m…Goodbye, Dean.” 

He flies off before Dean can say anything else.

Castiel brands angel-warding sigils on Dean and Sam’s ribs. He starts using a cellphone to find them. 

Except.

He still shows up when they’re in the middle of nowhere and haven’t talked to him in weeks. It’s like he just  _knows._  He knows where they are all the time. It’s weird, because he doesn’t always show up when they pray or even when they call, but these random moments when they’re not doing anything at all? He’s right there. It’s driving Dean batshit crazy.

“Dude, what the hell  _was_  that?” Dean asks Sam after Cas leaves. He showed up before they even woke up this morning.

“What? He was just checking in on us,” Sam answers casually as he laces up his boots.

“Yeah but neither of us asked him to. We didn’t call him, we’ve got angel repellant carved into our ribs–seriously, it doesn’t bother you?”

Sam shrugs and shakes his head. Typical.

Dean tries to let it go. It’s easy during the apocalypse not to think about it. It’s easy when he doesn’t see Cas for a year. It’s easy when Cas betrays them, becomes God and disappears for another year. It’s easy when he’s out of his mind in a mental hospital and it’s easy when he doesn’t come to Dean in purgatory. 

It’s all very easy.

Until Cas escapes purgatory and finds Dean at random times no matter where he is. How the  _fuck_  does he just  _know?_

Dean thinks he’s imagining it at first, but then he sees Cas standing outside the window in the middle of the night and decides to go out and see for himself if he’s really there. It’s raining, but Dean doesn’t care.

“You got out.”

“I’ve been trying to get to you, but I’m not at full power.” Cas takes a few steps closer to Dean. He’s sopping wet, like he’s been walking in the storm for hours.

“How’d you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t really care right now. He’s so damn happy to see the stupid angel. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner. I was…it was just–I–you know, I tried, and I just–I–”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, Cas, shhh. It’s all right.” On instinct, Dean steps forward and wraps Cas in his arms and holds the back of his head against his chest. Cas sinks into the touch. “Why were you trying so hard to get here anyway?”

Cas pulls back so he can look at Dean. “You–I heard you. You were…praying?”

“Uh, no. Unless I’m talking in my sleep, I don’t think I’ve–”

It hits Dean all at once.

_Why is the other half of my bed empty._

_It’s too quiet in this car without Sammy._

_Cas would like this restaurant._

_I wonder what Cas is doing right now._

_Where has he been lately?_

_God, I miss him._

Sometimes a thought, sometimes a feeling. Loneliness, maybe. Or an ache for  _something_. It’s like a, uh, a–

“Longing.”

“Longing?” Cas asks.

Dean rubs his hands down his back. “You sense longing. You hear it like you would a prayer.”

“I…I’m not sure I understand.”

It doesn’t make any sense at all, but Dean leans in and kisses Cas gently. His lips are wet and cold and  _home._  “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Cas asks, and Dean can’t help but notice how his eyes jump to his lips like he’s mad they stopped.

“I’ve accidentally called you to me like a hundred times, dude.”

It takes a second, but then realization dawns on Cas, and he curls his fingers around the front of Dean’s shirt and pulls him in for another kiss, this one a lot more intense. That’s…not what Dean was expecting.

They kiss and keep kissing and  _keep kissing_  until Dean can’t feel his fingers or toes anymore, and then they kiss some more. 

“Guys, you’re going to freeze out here,” Sam’s sleepy voice calls from the motel door.

They both turn, and if Dean had any feeling in his face he’s sure he’d turn bright red right now. 

“Come on, get in here,” Sam continues, a little impatiently. “Glad you’re back, Cas.”

Dean releases his grip on Cas and takes his hand instead so they can walk together. He squeezes a couple of times, and Cas squeezes back.

_Longing._  How many angels would even know what that feels like?


End file.
